


my life in your hands (my heart under your hand)

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Future Fic, Making Out, on the field together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 09:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6112699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While on a mission Daisy and Coulson come to a resolution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my life in your hands (my heart under your hand)

He doesn’t normally go in the field with her so he’s a bit taken aback when he sees how much more precise her powers have become. She can even pick locks without a sound with her powers. (Coulson is pretty sure she could pick locks _before_ , now that he thinks about it, but this is still impressive) It makes him fall behind just a little bit, even though this is his mission, his plan, and she isn’t really supposed to be here.

Daisy is glad to be on the field, not on the field in general (she was going to take the day off, actually), but with him, even though something about this is bothering her. And the fact that the mission doesn’t seem too challenging - steal some data from a government facility without too much security, because after Coulson’s meetings with the higher-ups in charge of the alien threats, _plural_ , they need to know exactly what the President has on them - only leaves more room for them to actually talk. Daisy feels like they haven’t talked in months. It’s probably not true, but that’s how it feels.

He still feels bad about dragging her along.

“I’m sorry you had to come out here,” Coulson says, covering while she leads.

“Yeah, you made it perfectly clear you didn’t ask for me.”

Coulson had asked for Bobbi or Hunter first, then May, then Mack… yeah, it’s clear he didn’t want Daisy, specifically, to be his backup.

“That’s not-”

“But I thought you could use the technical expertise,” Daisy says, cutting him off - she’s a bit offended that in a mission that requires hacking a government network Coulson didn’t think of asking for her help. No, she’s not offended exactly. She’s bothered. Because it’s not that Coulson didn’t think of it, it’s obvious, he didn’t forget to ask. He was purposely not wanting her here.

“I just need a copy of the files, I could manage on my own,” he replies.

“I’m not doubting your abilities, Director,” she says and if there’s something aggressive in her voice it feels good to at least be talking like equals. It’s not entirely dry, either. “But it’s better with a hacker by your side, isn’t it?”

Coulson doesn’t reply right away, he looks at their map, figuring out the door they’re in front of is the one they want.

“It’s always better with you by my side,” he says, casually, stepping aside so she can unlock the door. “But this operation - it didn’t seem big enough to call you in.”

Maybe he’s telling the truth, she figures. Maybe the fact that they haven’t been working together might not have been because he wants to push her away, like other times. She is busy enough with her team, that much is true. Maybe she has been pushing him away, unwittingly. And this mission - if Daisy is honest Coulson could have pulled it on his own, like he’s pulling so many solo missions these days.

“Everybody is pretty rattled after the week we’ve had,” she says and Coulson nods guiltily, because he was away when the whole thing happened, and it might have been just scratches but he should have been there to share the wounds. “I figured they could all use the rest so I gave them the day off.”

Coulson smiles as she opens the door effortlessly with her powers (it looks so casual, but he very much doubts it feels casual to her).

“ _You_ gave them the day off,” he repeats. “I see, Director Johnson.”

Daisy rolls her eyes, focusing on the row of computers before her.

“Give me the flash drive,” she says, walking up to him. “I hack, you cover me?”

Coulson dutifully nods. Would it be so bad? he thinks. If she were in charge and he was her subordinate. He wouldn’t have to take on so much responsibility. And Daisy would be a much easier superior to deal with than him. Strict, because Daisy is, but she wouldn’t need so many boundaries to carry out the job. Coulson has failed everybody as Director, it’s easy to daydream about someone doing things the right way. It’s easy to daydream of a relationship with Daisy that is not this strained, this plagued with false steps. The few moments he has with her everyday he seems to tiptoe all the time. 

He should probably be concentrating on being on the lookout more, instead of wondering what life with Daisy as his boss would be like.

“Done,” she says, walking to the door and handing him the drive.

“Already?”

“ _Please_.”

They exchange a smile. This is nice, Daisy thinks. She hasn’t seen him this relaxed in months. To be fair she’s not the life of the party these days, either. Even Joey commented on it recently, while trying to cheer her up with comfort food (he learns fast, that Gutierrez). She’s not blue or anything - she knows how that feels - just exhausted and worried and wanting a moment where things could slow down. Seriously, some days she just wishes the world would slow down for her. But it never does.

Coulson tucks the flash drive safe back into his pocket as he nods to Daisy to lead the way once more, the ghost of a smile still dancing on his lips.

Three guards are waiting for them outside.

Despite all their preparations and how quiet and fast they had been three guards are waiting for them.

Daisy’s not fast enough - which hasn’t happened in a long time. The feeling of helplessness stings (she had gotten rid of it, mostly, when he learned to control her powers, when she marvelled at the extent of her strength, greater than the strength of the ground underneath her feet; helplessness felt like her bruised wrists after Grant Ward handcuffed her to the staircase, and it’s something Daisy though she had left behind her). She’s practiced how to take two enemies in opposite directions at the same time and she has that down to a science (well, it is a science), but three? She is a bit too slow with that and she knows it, so instead of using her powers on the shooter she uses them on Coulson, who is closer. The shot was aimed at his head but Daisy vibrates him - up and away - and the bullet grazes his left shoulder. Coulson crashes, flung, against the wall.

She knocks the remaining guard out (these are government people, she can’t be too rough, they’re good guys, in theory - the practice is more complicated, the practice is a country-wide manhunt for people like Daisy, and something like killing a government agent even if self-defense could be a disaster for everyone) and only then she goes to check up on Coulson.

He has his eyes shut and his face is contorted into a pained grimace.

Daisy runs to him, kneeling to help him.

“Oh god, are you okay?” she feels like apologizing for having used her powers on him.

He sits up with Daisy’s assistance.

“I think so,” he replies, but sounding unsure.

He seems more concerned with his head than the wound on his shoulder.

He brushes his fingers against the tender part that hurts from the fall. In awe. 

“I’ve never…”

It’s not that he wants Daisy to throw him against a wall again but - she had never used her powers on him before. He felt a bit of a rush, lifted and in mid-air, thinking that it was her gift controlling his body for a moment. There must be something wrong with that, right?

“That was amazing,” he tells her anyway, not hiding his admiration. “You just saved my life.”

Daisy gives him a shy smile.

“Well, I put you in danger in the first place,” she says, because she always has to do that, doesn’t she. Coulson frowns. “I should have been more careful. Quicker.”

She presses one hand against his vest to make the point. She has long been used to her life being full of danger, and those around her at risk. This wasn’t a particularly dangerous mission and yet - she was slow, but had she been a split of a second slower Coulson would be dead. Coulson would be dead. She curls her fingers around the neck of his vest, feeling the vibrating body underneath, against her knuckles.

The pain in his shoulder catches up with him.

“Ouch, is it too bad?” he asks Daisy.

She examines the wound. Quite a bit of blood but at least it seems to have stopped. She remembers her lessons with Trip, assess and decide, and if you can move without wasting more time leave the rest to the doctors. Coulson seems to have the same idea.

“We have to leave. If someone catches _an Inhuman_ breaking and entering on government property…”

She blinks at her.

“That’s why you didn’t want _me_ on the mission,” Daisy realizes.

“Of course. Why else?”

Daisy gives him a curious little look. He can’t ask about it because soon she’s helping him up, pulling him by the waist and using the wall as support. It works, he’s on his feel, but the process is not exactly painless.

He makes a loud, pained sound of complaint.

“What, no brave face?” Daisy teases him. “No telling me not to worry because _it’s just a scratch_ ”

“Are you crazy? Of course it hurts. A bullet went through my body. It’s not just a scratch.”

She chuckles and grabs him by his healthy shoulder, pulling him against her and touching her mouth briefly against his. It doesn’t feel nearly as weird as she thought it might, when she started the gesture. Her heart beats painfully for one second - this is way more risky than the mission. His lips are hot and start to tremble as soon as she touches them.

She pulls back in a moment. Or rather she pushes Coulson away from her, gently.

He looks surprised.

“What was that for?” he asks.

She shrugs. Coulson watches her drop her gaze, bashful. He knows she tends to be careful with the relationship stuff - he just never thought he’d be at the receiving end of that carefulness. Does he like it? he ponders. It’s Daisy. The answer is obvious.

The answer is obvious but dangerous. And maybe impossible.

“For being Phil Coulson, I guess.” She rests her hand over his chest for a moment. Relieved he’s still him, even when he’s not at his best. It pauses a bit, the world, she feels. Not sure if that’s a good thing yet and Daisy is always terrified by the _not knowing_ and she’s never made a first step without knowing if the other person is interested. Today is a first.

Coulson tries standing on his own, because Daisy steps back, quite understandably. The pain in his right shoulder is ugly but manageable - he hasn’t gotten hurt in a while, not since… not since _Ward_. He frowns a bit at the pain, perfectly aware that he’s just distracting himself, and only stalling his reaction.

But she has never been a patient one.

“And what does being Daisy Johnson and saving your life get me?” she asks, playful, but unsure.

Coulson wraps his one good arm around her shoulder and pulls her towards him.

 

+

 

She brushes her fingers over the gauze on his shoulder, making sure it’s in place, her other hand over Coulson’s bare chest, patting the soft layer of hair. He grabs her wrist, makes sure her hand stays over his heart, noticing her reticence; on the medbay table he had looked unconcerned with modesty but in this new situation, in his bed with Daisy straddling his lap, she’s afraid of being intrusive about his scar.

They have been kissing for many minutes now; Coulson is a bit surprised to find out Daisy is so tender and playful (he shouldn’t have been), taking a long time, taking his head between her hands and kissing his nose, his eyelids, and the curve of his ear joyfully. She seems to extract special pleasure from tickling him. She makes him chuckle with it a couple of times. His maneuverability isn’t great right now, thanks to the shoulder, so he mostly lets her take charge and dictate the pace. He guesses, in a way, he doesn’t have to feel like he’s stepping on the edge as much as being pulled by the gentle undertow of her body.

He didn’t even bother getting some painkillers (which Daisy guesses is better, so he’s not woozy now). They just came straight from medbay after the doctors gave Coulson the okay. His kiss out there in the field had been pretty spectacular but they were in the middle of a mission and had needed to request extraction. She doesn’t think any of them suggested it, they just walked out of the lab and directly to the Director’s quarters. Maybe there wasn’t anything to discuss.

They both knew.

Coulson feels strangely calm like this, patiently making out while Daisy straddles his hips and the sweet pressure inside his chest rises kiss by kiss and caress by caress. He doesn’t feel out of place even though Daisy is young and so new to him, her warmth so different from the last times he had been in an intimate situation like this (Roz was convenient but not warm, Audrey was perfect but not warm).

She drops her hand to his navel and Coulson squirms a bit at the feeling of her fingernails tracing a line down his belly. He holds his breath while Daisy undoes the first button on his jeans.

“What? You don’t wear Captain America underwear? I’m _disappointed_.”

Coulson holds her gaze. “Well, lucky for you, I’ll take them off very soon. You won’t have to endure the disappointment much longer.”

She laughs. Coulson can feel it all over his body. It’s like being tickled again.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she says, bending to kiss him.

She forgets about the rest of him for a moment, opening his mouth little by little, licking at the roof and brushing her teeth over his bottom lip when she pulls back to breathe, then she starts over again.

She is about to shift where she is when she stops herself from any sudden movement - giving Coulson’s injury a glare. She shakes her head. Stupid mission. And he had been about to carry it out alone.

“Next time,” she says, brushing her lips lightly against Coulson’s. He arches his back trying to follow the gesture but Daisy has already withdrawn, sitting back on his thighs and fixing him an amused glance. “Next time you call me _first_.”

Coulson loops the arm he _can move_ around Daisy’s back and pulls her against him.

“So you can throw me against a wall again?” he teases her.

She knows it’s a joke but she still feels bad about it.

“I’m so sorry,” she says softly, dropping her hand to his nape, squeezing his neck. “Does it hurt a lot?”

Coulson lifts his chin, putting on a defiant expression that almost, almost looked like the real thing (but isn’t, because Daisy knows the different, and this fake-face makes her shake with amusement against his chest, and the real thing makes her heart feel wrapped in a warmth that until recently she couldn’t name).

“I can handle it,” he says with a smile. “Because I’m brave and stoic.”

Daisy chuckles, pressing a sympathetic grin against his mouth. Coulson can feel all that patience and tenderness ebbing out in the sweetest manner, her movements becoming agitated, passionate. That is good too.

“Okay, but let me know if I’m hurting you,” she says.

You could never hurt me, he thinks. 

“It’s fine,” he tells her. 

“Seriously, tell me. I don’t want to hurt you again. And there’s no rush. We have all the time in the world.”

She fixes him an important look. The words sounds like a warning.

Coulson likes how it sounds, despite it all.

She feels herself getting lost in the moment, and she doesn’t want to push too hard like she always does.

He moves his hand to her arm, the curve of her shoulder, wrapping his fingers around the solidity of her. Her body feels so heavy and strong - Coulson can make out the toned muscles, witnesses to the deep commitment she hides behind her easygoing attitude. How different she looks, not that she had ever looked fragile before (there was always an energy to her, an alien strength Coulson used to envy before he knew where it came from), but he remembers sending her on her first solo mission, only a couple of weeks after their first encounter, to Malta, with only her wits and barely any training and Daisy had looked so small and breakable in her sparring clothes (Coulson tries not to think about all those morning Ward was teaching her, guiding her, deceiving her), a civilian after all, looking like she might disappear into thin air as soon as you touched her. He had been right in trusting that fierceness in her, and she had come back over and over, sometimes bruised, never gone.

Coulson moves his fingers to her neck. It’s his turn to tickle her now. Daisy tilts her head to one side, pressing her cheek against his knuckles. It’s really weird, that doing this with Coulson feels so real, when they idea is so… surreal. She lets herself go; not in the reckless, dangerous way of old, when she often jumped into things she didn’t really want. She didn’t know what she was doing when she kissed Coulson on the field, but everything since then - Coulson grabbing the back of her neck to kiss her back, the silent drive back to the base avoiding each other’s eyes because that might set them off and get them smiling like madmen, the awkward beat in medbay when they were suddenly left alone, the breathless third kiss as Daisy carefully lowered his body down the bed - has only made her feel better about that first impulse. Which, isn’t normally the case.

“Your hair’s gotten long,” Coulson comments, catching it between his fingers. He’s missed it. He’s missed… a lot of things. He should have been looking at her and he wasn’t.

She blushes a bit at the observation.

“Yeah, the endings are a mess,” she says, brushing her fingertips against Coulson’s as he threads his hand through her hair. “I should cut it again.”

He strokes her cheek as he holds locks of hair in his hand. Daisy gives him an open, loving look (from a not-so-open, loving person) but there’s still a hint of doubt in her eyes. Coulson knows she’s making herself lighter than she is.

“Okay,” he tells her. “If it’s too much, I promise, I’ll tell you.”

It’s a promise of something else. That her worries about rushing him are unfounded.

“I’ll hold you to that,” she says, covering his hand with hers over her cheek and leaning - slowly, almost _too slow_ , almost like he is dreaming it - to kiss him again.

She feels like Coulson could be the one to slow things down - the world - for her.


End file.
